“Yes, I am. Just let me grab my bag.”
“I’ve got it.” Stefano gripped the handle.
Jules turned back to Lizzie, who had an expectant look on her face. “We’ll talk later. I’m so happy for you. And don’t worry about a thing. I promise we’ll plan the best wedding. Ever.”
Lizzie’s worried expression eased. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
“I’ll remember that you said that.” Jules smiled, so happy to see her sister again. “We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
* * *
What in the world had he been thinking?
Stefano shook his head. Obviously he hadn’t been thinking, at least not clearly. What he knew about playing host wouldn’t even fill up his mother’s thimble—a memento that his father kept on his dresser. And what Stefano knew about making women happy was practically nonexistent. His wife could attest to that—if she were still alive. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders.
It was just one more reason that taking Jules home with him wasn’t a good idea. Because once you got past all the makeup and distinctive clothes, there was something special about Jules—something that intrigued him. And that was definitely not a good thing.
But he couldn’t just leave her stranded there with those two. His brother could barely keep his hands off Lizzie. Not that he could blame him.
But there was no way anyone could convince Stefano to stay in that apartment—no matter how spacious it was. There was only so much of that mushy stuff that one could handle. Regardless of his hesitation, Jules didn’t deserve to play the third wheel.
“Thank you.”
Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. “What?”
“Thank you for helping me out back there. I don’t think I could have stood to watch them much longer. Did you ever see such a happy couple?”
He shook his head. At last, they had something in common. “They certainly have it bad for each other.”
“You noticed that, too?”
He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “What do you think about their rush to say I do?”
“I was beginning to think that Lizzie was never going to settle down with a family of her own, especially after—well, anyway, it’s full steam ahead.”
After what? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t. He just hoped that Dante knew what Jules was referring to. He wasn’t crazy about the rushed engagement and even less so about the hurried wedding. He wished Dante would take his time and give the whole marriage idea more thought.
Perhaps now Stefano wasn’t the only one with reservations. He’d noticed the brief frown that had crossed Jules’s face back at the love nest when she thought no one was looking. Maybe she’d had a change of heart about this whirlwind romance.
Could it be he had an ally—someone who thought the happy couple should slow down and see reason? Sure, the television people were anxious for the wedding. The only thing that mattered to them was their ratings. But marriage was about so much more than a popularity contest. It was a lifelong commitment—one that could have devastating consequences if you weren’t careful.
He cleared his throat. “That sure was a surprise about them pushing the wedding up so far. It’s only a matter of weeks away. I wonder if they’re doing the right thing.”
He took his focus off the road for a moment and glanced over to find Jules studying him suspiciously. Definitely not a good sign. It would seem that he’d read her reactions all wrong.
“What are you worried about?” she asked. “Don’t you like Lizzie? Don’t you think she’s good enough for your brother?”
“Whoa! Slow down. That isn’t what I meant.” Why in the world had he even opened his mouth? He should have just left well enough alone.
He kept glancing between Jules and the road. She crossed her arms and arched a brow at him. She was waiting for an explanation, and he didn’t know exactly what to say. He didn’t want to open his mouth and insert his freshly polished dress shoe. But she didn’t look as though she was about to let him off the proverbial hook anytime soon.
He sighed. “What I meant was that if it’s real between them, there’s no need to rush—no matter what the television studio says. They can take their time—”
“That’s not the real truth, is it?” When he didn’t have an immediate denial, Jules barreled on. “The truth is you know about Lizzie’s past and you don’t think that she’s good enough to marry into the DeFiore family.”
“That’s not true.” He wished that was the case. If his disapproval was the only obstacle Dante and Lizzie had to face, their future would be paved in rose petals. But the truth was he thought they made a great couple—a couple totally in love with each other. The problem with love was that it was blind and deaf to the truth. And sooner or later, devastation would plan a sneak attack—it always did. But how did he explain any of that to Jules? Unless you had lived through it—twice in his case—you just couldn’t truly understand.